


Den of Wolves

by demiyurgos



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Gun Violence, Racism, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:00:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27683228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demiyurgos/pseuds/demiyurgos
Summary: These people, they didn't deserve a second chance. The fact that they had been living this easily while practicing their hateful ideology was a testament of how biased and broken the justice system was.
Kudos: 5





	Den of Wolves

Everything about the urban landscape was as nondescript as one could expect it to be. The houses formed a straight line of saturated white bricks on the side of the road. On their lawns, leaves fell victim to the change of seasons.  Occasionally, a car or two would pass by, creating some noise. A welcomed change to the borderline mute setting of the environment. Everything about this area, if one were to be honest, pretty much spelled 'not worth your money' from the get go.

Unless one decided to dig deeper. Then, they would find that this small area with a number of steadily growing populace was home to something more sinister. 

From his intel, the Red Hood had gathered that this area was dominated by a group called the Blue Hawks. No, it wasn't a basketball team from a High School Musical rip-off. It was a widely known white supremacist group that has been kidnapping people of color for their own sick sense of sport. Recently, though, they were heard to be smuggling in some weaponry from an unnamed military contractor. Supposedly with the plans to start a race war in the major cities of the United States, starting from their own backyard.

To add fuel to the pyre, their online buzzers have been purposefully creating elaborate and aggressive hoax articles on the internet to spark the tension even further. From pop culture articles about a Cuban actress landing the role of a werewolf to the fictitious buzzword "blackwashing". When Jason Todd arrived at the scene, he expected the neighborhood to be brimming with American flags with the bald eagle on every house's porch. Hell, a part of him wished there was an inverted swastika somewhere.

But there weren't. 

The place almost seemed like it was dying. An amateur vigilante would have questioned their lead the moment they got there, but Jason kept his conviction ablaze.

"Miggs, I'm here." Jason spoke through the phone after his truck had came to a stop by the side of the road. "You done with the purchase yet?" 

❝Give me a sec. Yeah, it is. 72 Blackford Drive.❞ 

"Alright. Thanks, man. Hood out." 

That was the end of their conversation. 

Jason had decided to do this discreetly. That meant no air support like that time in Paris, and most definitely no alerting the Bats.  Dismounting from the vehicle carrying a duffel bag and a suitcase, he approached the house that he had bought specifically for this occasion. What a coincidence, his "neighbors" were just having a barbecue. 

❝Mornin', neighbor!❝ Greeted the burly white man that was turning his bacon on the grilling machine.

"Mornin'!" Jason replied in a thick southern accent. "Mind if Ah join ya later?" 

❝Sure thing, pal! Come on down once yer done settlin' in.❞ 

"Alright, give me a sec." 

Once inside, he opened the duffel bag and took out the file he had compiled about the organization.  A brief read would restate that their intentions were malevolent. If these reports were to be trusted, then he should be extra careful with his approach. One wrong step and he could end up in a body bag. 

The sound of a huge truck going at a staggeringly high speed for its type nearly stuttered him.

"What the hell?" Jason asked himself while his head snapped sideways, catching the logo of the Blue Hawks on its side. "Seems like its delivery time, huh?" 

From inside his briefcase, the Red Hood retrieved his CZ Bren before examining and recalibrating its custom-made scope. After that, he put on his half-mask along with the ocular protection device, complemented with his hood and combat boots. Once he was fully suited, he would take the briefcase and duffle bag to the adjacent bedroom and bolt its door. If the people next door were in on this, they would want to eliminate their new neighbor just because he saw that truck drove by. 

And he'll be waiting for them.

It took the people that were enjoying their barbecue less than a minute before they were at his door, armed with pistols and bats, knocking as if they were here to talk about their Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. From the inside, Jason didn't even bother playing into their little charade. The sound of him loading his rifle and preparing for an altercation were too audible.

"What's up, neighbors?" He asked nonchalantly, walking to the door as he did so. "Sorry to interrupt your racist agenda." 

Flinging the gun on his back, he unlocked the door and let them in. 

"Now, here's how this all is gonna go. You're gonna tell me where your main base is, and I'll make sure your families can still recognize your faces. How about that?" 

There was no response. Well, not verbally, at least. One of the men immediately lifted his barbed bat a la Negan and swung it towards him. Too slow. Jason managed to not only get out of the way, but to also grab his first assailant and disarmed him from his bat but also broke his knee joint with a kick. 

Once the man was stumbling, the Red Hood struck the man's head, barbed wires piercing through his skull, threatening to protrude on the other side. But that only sparked the once "civil" situation into an all out mayhem. 

The two other men began their charge on him. One sent the sole of his boots towards his abdomens. 

The other swung a water pipe on his head. 

Somehow, they caught him off-guard. Stumbling backwards, he regained composure and gripped the edge of a table. 

One of the men rushed over to finish his job using the barbed bat, but Jason was on his guard now. A sweeping kick was enough to dislocate the kneecaps, sending one of the assailants down in pain. As for the other one, the Red Hood landed two punches on his neck, enough to break the trachea. 

"Alright, listen up." He said, a figure looming above his hurting victims. "I know you're both hurting right now, but I need to know where your base is. Where was that truck going?"

Even in their pain, these men kept it to themselves. Gotta give that to them, he supposed.

Grabbing the one with the dislocated kneecaps, he put the man on a choke hold.

"What about you. buddy boy? Feelin' chatty?"

❝Perish, you fucking sellout!❞ Hissed the man, spitting on the ground.

"Sellout? God, I love racists and their perverse version of the world." He tightened his arms around the man's throat.

❝They're taking our home from us! And you're giving it freely to the ni—❞ Before he was able to finish his sentence, Jason's arms moved in opposite directions, snapping the man's neck.

"Classic rhetoric." He mumbled, letting the body drop. Making his way to the other person, he used his foot to turn his curled up body around.

"What about you, boyo?"

❝Hck⎯ south. . .west—❞

"I'd ask for specifics but you're struggling, so—"  With that, Jason aimed his handgun at the man's forehead and fired two bullets through it.

"—appreciate the cooperation, though."

Leaving the dead bodies where they fell, Jason took the duffel bag and the suit case and stuffed them into the back of his truck. During the drive southwest, he kept pondering on what he might encounter once he got there.  Whatever it was that he had thought about, he sure as hell wasn't expecting a small house with a front yard and a whole bunch of people drinking apple juice in the middle of the day.

But when he arrived, Jason knew instantly that they had been expecting him. Their eyes tracked the motion of his truck up until the point where he disembarked it and took out his Heckler & Koch G36 and the CZ Bern he had planned on using back in the house. On his boots, there were knives strapped in on its rear. Unless, Batman's ropes had been through a downgrade, the object should be enough to slit a throat open.

"Now, I'm gonna make this easy for all of you by offering you one chance at destroying this facility once and for all."

It was a lie. These people, they didn't deserve a second chance. The fact that they had been living this easily while practicing their hateful ideology was a testament of how biased and broken the justice system was. As long as one paid to big pharma and a weapons supplier, they could live however they wanted.

But not today.

Thanks to his time with Batman, the League of Assassins, and training at the Hundred Acres of All, Jason was able to develop, in a sense, his own superhuman reflexes. Once his ears picked up the sound of another assault rifle being retrieved from underneath a desk, he immediately jumped over the truck and took cover on the other side just as the bullets rained on the exterior.

"Alright. Guns blazing it is, then."

From his belt, the Red Hood took out three balls of smoke bomb before throwing it at the crowd. There were more than fifty people there for sure. Hell, maybe even pushing a hundred. But it didn't matter. The number of people he'd kill today would equal to the number of scum gone from the world.

Mounting his Heckler & Koch on the open rear of the truck, he toggled on the smoke vision that he had custom-built and began to open fire. He needed to keep the number of bullets wasted to a minimum. Once the smoke had subsided, that was when the real fight began.

Apparently, besides being racist and hateful, these people are also too overly confident in their fighting prowess. It didn't take him long, especially with two handy knives and CZ Bern that he had mastered to use interchangeably in the middle of a fight, to slice and shoot his way through them. Once he was through, he glanced back at his body count. Lifeless carcasses on the ground drenched in red with the blood from their bodies.

If Batman were here, he would not have approved of this. But then again, Batman was a coward who thought rehabilitation exists for people who spent their lives hating on others simply because of their skin colors.

"Well, well," Jason said as he stood in front of the house. With quick strides, he went up the porch and examined the mat that was laid in front of the entrance. There was nothing special about it, but that only meant that it would be the place to start. Placing his foot on the wool triggered the opening of the front door. Which turned out to be an elevator that led downwards.  "Knew it."

It was a two-minute trip down before Jason found himself in what looked like an underground base lit with the bluish glows of warmth-radiating lights. At the far end of the corner was a blonde woman, typing away on her console.

"So you must be Reverend Mother Supreme or something?"

❝I come by many names—❞

"They always do." Jason interjected.

❝Men. Always interrupting.❞

"Wow. That's uncharacteristic coming from you. Thought you would be more of a Steven Crowder kind of person rather than Women Try Manspreading for a Day. Considering the, you know, American supremacy thing you've got going."

❝Silence!❞ She lifted her hand up like a headmistress disciplining an entire hallway filled with loud-mouthed children. ❝You've displayed the fighting prowess of a true Aryan man. You should join me instead of fighting me, Red Hood.❞

"What's in it for me?"

❝Home. We fought for this land and we have rightfully won it. And now look at these people. They came from outside and took our jobs from us. Our rights. This is a secret invasion!❞

Jason shook his head. Beneath the mask, he was rolling his eyes on how stupid this woman's stance on immigration was. "Secret invasion? Really? That sounds like a comic book crossover event, to be honest. But you know what?"

His hands slowly went to the back, reaching for his two pistols.  "Enough chit chat."

With a sideways leap, he opened fire at the woman. Bullets rained vertically, but she was able to dodge a few of them. The ones that hit, however, caused her to grimace and hide herself beside a container. Enough to conceal her figure from Jason's line of fire.

Switching to his Heckler & Koch, he propped it on the top of a protruding piece of wall, aiming it at her.

Nothing. He was blocked.

"Sneaky bitch."

𝑮𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒂 𝒃𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝑱𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏. He thought to himself before turning mere inches to the left where a hydraulics pipe was located.

"Gotcha."

It didn't take much to cause a hole on the structure of the pipe. The pressurized gas immediately shot where he had wanted it to. Straight into her eyes. The woman screamed in pain.  Even after the gas ran out, she was still unable to see.

"Hey, you know what?" Jason asked while typing on the console. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇-𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒕 𝒐𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆. He thought to himself before continuing.

"It's been a fun talk, but I'm afraid this is as far as you'll go, lady. Wasn't fun knowing you, though."

After a few moments, Jason was finally able to initiate the sequence. The countdown gave him thirty two minutes to leave the area. A time window he didn't plan on wasting. As he hurried himself outside, he glanced back at the woman.  "You're gonna have thirty minutes to get yourself out of this mess. But I'm not helping you."

Her response came through the sound of groaning and screaming.

Through the elevator, the outlaw ascended and got into his car. It hadn't been a full minute since he left the area where a huge explosion could be heard and fire soared to the heavens.

Tilting the inner rear view mirror, Jason smirked at the decimation he left behind. No, this wasn't murder. This was a public service.

"Sorry. Must've read the screen wrong."


End file.
